A Kiss for a Fighting Man
by BobtheFrog
Summary: A prequel of sorts to my other story, The War is Over. Peggy, Joe Liebgott's future wife, just wants a quiet cup of tea at her favourite cafe. Joseph Liebgott is sitting in her seat.


Title: A Kiss for a Fighting Man

Author: Gilove2dance

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2270

Disclaimer: This is in no way a representation of the real men and women who were portrayed in the miniseries Band of Brothers. This is entirely based on Ross McCall and the writers' interpretation of the man and is not written to cause any offense to said man, nor his family, nor anyone else involved. Peggy is not a representation of Joseph Liebgott's wife Peggy, except her name, as I don't know anything about the real woman and mean her no disrespect.

A/N: Guys, I actually did research for this. The Cafe, rationing, the other Division, the slang names and slurs...all real in the 40s. While there is some controversy/discussions over whether Easy Company actually liberated concentration camps in Germany in real life, for the purposes of this story, I follow the series timeline. Also, can be read as a prequel to my other BoB fic, The War is Over. Thanks missavc34 who wanted more about Peggy and Joe. And thank you to dollydagger87 for beta-ing this!

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><p>Peggy sped up a bit as she neared the street corner. She could see her destination up ahead, Pier 23 Cafe. It had been her favourite spot to stop by after high school when it had opened in 1937 and now it was a habit to go after work, enjoy a cup of tea, and watch the hustle and bustle of daily life on the pier. The bell tinkled happily as she pushed open the door and the aroma of coffee and greasy foods filled her nose as she took in a deep comforting breath.<p>

"Peggy, darlin'. When are you gonna give up and marry me?"

Peggy grinned at the man behind the counter, a middle aged man who had the look of once being quite handsome before life's troubles chipped away at his spirit, leaving him harder and more weathered. "And just how do you think your wife would deal with that, Sal? She'd be heartbroken."

"Nah, she'd be glad to be rid of me. The usual?" He was already pulling out her cup and teapot.

"Please," she replied as she walked down the counter to her usual chair. But it was already filled with a tall, lanky man with brown hair that was slightly curling on his forehead to one side. He glanced over at her while he absently stirred his coffee. His eyes traveled slowly up and down her figure. The beginnings of a smile graced his long face for the briefest of moments before he turned back to his mug. Peggy brought a hand up to her burning cheeks and chided herself silently for acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. She took the seat two chairs down from the man while stealing another look at him.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to a pale, white, puckering scar on the side of his neck. She quickly turned away and jumped slightly when the movement of Sal putting her teapot and cup in front of her caught her unawares. The mysteriously handsome man was a soldier, probably just coming home from overseas. Peggy was immediately filled with a strange emotion. She wanted to thank him in some way, for the unimaginable sacrifices he must have made, but she felt awkward. What if he was bitter towards those that would never know what really went on over there? What if he decided that she owed him something?

Peggy shook her head over her silliness and settled for pouring her tea. The poor man probably just wanted to be left alone. So she decided that not saying anything was best. She was just about to take a sip from her tea when she heard a voice to her left, raspy in a way that happens when not having been used in a while.

"You want any sugar?"

She startled, setting down her cup a bit harder than necessary and turned to the man. He bit his bottom lip and once again, a smile almost crossed his features. "Didn't mean to scare ya, miss."

Peggy blushed. "Oh no, it's fine. I don't take any sugar. I prefer my tea black. I did even before rationing, plus sugar is still rationed over here so even if I did want some, I don't have the token for any so really, it's a very good thing I don't take any sugar in my tea and oh please stop me, I am totally rambling." She clamped her mouth shut, mortified.

The smile that had so far successfully avoided surfacing finally broke over the man's face, causing his eyes to crinkle beautifully and Peggy decided embarrassing herself was worth it.

"Right. I was given some and I don't put any in my coffee so I was wondering if you wanted it." It was amazing how warm his eyes were and he leaned towards her a bit.

"Oh," Peggy breathed. "That is so kind of you. I'm sorry I don't take any sugar." The man snorted and Peggy couldn't help the laugh that escaped her.

"What's your name?" he asked and Peggy could tell he was genuinely interested in the answer. She was just about to reply when the bell over the door tinkled and the man's face grew dark and guarded as he sat up straighter in his chair, hand drifting to his belt.

Distraught that the rapport they were building suddenly disappeared, Peggy slowly glanced over to the door to see who had entered the cafe. It was a man dressed in an army dress uniform. The dark olive coat was decorated on the sleeve with a single striped chevron and a circular patch with what looked like a panther.

Her man, she should not refer to him like that, snorted and this time it was laced with disgust and he mumbled, "Dogface." Peggy turned her attention back to the new man and watched as he strutted over to the bar, puffed out his chest, and wrapped on the counter, despite Sal standing right in front of him.

"A cup of joe for this G.I. Joe, my good man." The soldier was loud, letting his voice carry across the cafe to the few patrons. Sal put a mug on the counter and poured the coffee into it without taking his eyes off the man.

"And this'll be free, right? I mean, I did risk my life for you by going overseas and doing your fighting for you. So the least you would do is give me a free coffee." He smiled in a way that he probably thought was dashing or rakish, but it came off as more of a grimace of pain.

Peggy deliberately turned away from the newcomer and smiled at her man. "My name is Peggy." She reached out her hand.

He didn't smile again, his face still hard, brows furrowed, but he moved his attention back to her and reached out to carefully envelop her hand in his. "Joe. Joe Liebgott."

Peggy was once again interrupted by the soldier by the door. He had walked over to their joined hands. He broke their grip as he sat down on the stool beside her. Joe turned in his seat with a scowl and took a long drag of his coffee. Peggy felt a pang of panic fill her.

"Hey, doll. Got a kiss for a fighting man?" The soldier had decided he wanted to talk to Peggy. She sighed and dragged her eyes away from the white knuckled grip Joe had on his mug.

"No," she replied simply and turned to look at her tea cup.

"Aww, come on now, sweet cheeks." He leaned his elbow on the counter and reached out a hand to place on her shoulder. "I killed a lot of nazis so you could stay safe."

Joe coughed and Peggy could see unbridled anger being held in check by the tension in his neck and shoulders. Instead of fear, she was comforted that Joe was paying close attention to the soldier and would hopefully intervene should things get out of hand.

"I thank you for that with my words, sir. My actions are for me to decide what to do with, not anyone else," she said as politely as she could without a trace of warmth.

"Huh," the soldier grunted before flexing his arm at her. "See this patch? It's the insignia for the 66th Infantry Division. We are black panthers."

He waited a moment and then lunged at her with a snarl. Peggy jumped out of her seat and stared at him with alarm. He laughed nastily at her. "Panthers are vicious creatures, dollface. Big, bad, and strong. That's us."

She continued to stare at this loud brutish lout, who was quickly ruining her afternoon tea.

"Sit back down, doll. I promise not to bite ya...much." He leered at her as she gingerly slid back down as far away from him as possible while still staying on the seat. She resolved herself to downing her tea as quickly as she could so she could leave.

"Look," drawled Joe loudly. "Why don't you leave the lady alone?"

"Why don't you mind your own business, you cowardly 4F?" The soldier called over his shoulder without taking his eyes off Peggy.

Joe let out a humourless laugh and pushed himself away from the counter. He stood up and walked over the the soldier, reaching into the collar of his shirt, and dragging out a pair of rusty dog tags. "Technician Fifth grade of Easy Company, 506 Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division. We jumped into Normandy during D-Day, fought in Holland, survived Bastogne and supervised the surrender of three hundred thousand krauts in Germany. I've been in war for four years."

Joe dropped the chain, letting the dog tags clink against his chest. He sneered at the other man. "66th? Didn't you guys wait until December to even come over there? Did you even see battle? Cause if you did, you wouldn't be coming in here like you owned the place. If you had seen-"

Peggy's heart felt a pang at the hurt that ghosted across Joe's face. The soldier sitting next to her wouldn't meet her eyes and seemed to be looking around the cafe as if for someone to take his side. If she was a gambling woman, she would have sided with Joe and bet that this man hadn't seen any battle. He was a replacement during the occupancy of a far off country.

"Whatever," muttered Joe. "Just...leave her alone." He turned away. "I'm done fighting."

"Yeah, you run away" the man called out to Joe's retreating form. Peggy stood up away from him. She had been more than gracious with this contemptuous fellow. She turned to follow Joe, but was yanked back by a hand gripped tight around her upper arm. She fell into the man's chest with a distressed cry.

"You don't have to leave the party yet, doll." He grabbed her lower arm as Peggy tried to slap his face. "Whoa now, let's not get violent." Peggy felt a strong presence at her back and warm arms wrapped around her to the hands that were trapping her. The offending man let out a yelp of pain as Joe bent back his fingers so he would release her. Joe quickly moved Peggy behind him.

"I said to leave her alone." Joe's voice was iron and the tendons of his neck were strained with anger.

"So you can have her, you rat faced goldbricker?" Peggy knew that was the wrong thing for the soldier to say.

Joe gave a cocky smile. "Really? Alright, you asked for it." He punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him back onto the counter, and sending Peggy's abandoned cup and teapot to the ground with a resounding crash. "Sorry, Sal," Joe called. "I'll pay for those."

Sal came over and gave the knocked out man a look of disgust. "Don't you worry about it. I'll make him pay for it. You owe me nothin'."

Joe nodded his thanks and turned to Peggy. "Want to get out of here?"

"Please," she replied and quickly slipped her arm around his. He stared down at her in wonder for a moment and then led her to the door. Peggy knew her cheeks were burning, but as they stepped out into the sun, she found that she couldn't quite summon the embarrassment to make her shy away.

As they slowly made their way down to the end of the pier, she turned to look up at him. "Thank you," she said softly.

"What? For that guy? Replacements are the worst. And regular infantry?" Joe scoffed. "They don't know shit." He winced. "Sorry for the language. Gotta remember I'm no longer in the army. Gotta be civilized now."

Peggy's responding laughter drew a careful smile out of him. "Well still, thank you for that and for-" She stopped their walk. She turned into him and went up on tip toe as she wrapped a hand around his neck to pull him down slightly. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, a little too close to the corner of his mouth than was strictly proper. She lingered a moment more when she heard Joe's sharp intake of breath.

She slowly lowered herself back down onto her heels. "And what was that for?" Joe asked quietly. She looked down, taking a sudden interest in their shoes. "Hey...Peggy." He gently cupped her cheek, making her look up at him.

"You know." Up close she could see the discolouration under his eyes from lack of sleep and the lines created from stress and worry, making him look older than he was. He paused for a moment and then dropped his hand.

"I don't deserve it," Joe whispered and he took a step back. "The things I did-"

"Hey." Peggy grabbed the front of his shirt. "We don't need to talk about that now. Maybe later, when you are ready, I will be here to listen. You don't need to explain anything to me." She reached down and slipped her hand into his. "There's a new dance club about three blocks from here, want to check it out?"

Joe stared at her for a long moment and Peggy held his gaze. She wanted to get to know this quiet, humble, lanky man. She wanted to draw him out and share with her. But for now, as they walked down the street hand-in-hand, stealing shy glances at one another, Peggy was glad she picked this fighting man to give her kiss to.


End file.
